The Brain Invaders

Chapter 10

Remembering what Cassie’s dad had said, I checked to make sure my right shirt sleeve was covering my birthmark. I didn’t trust paying with my right hand because I was afraid my sleeve would ride up my arm, so I grabbed my stomach with my right hand and paid with my left.

“One for ‘I Thought I Knew You.’”

The middle-age cashier cracked her gum. “Are you all right?”

 She took my money and handed me the ticket, flashing her red nails with black tips.  “You look a little white.”

I nodded. “I’m fine. Too much garlic on my pizza.”

“Garlic,” she blew a bubble, then sucked it in and cracked the wad again.  “That stuff never sits right with me either, honey.”

I walked away and waited for Cassie to get her ticket. We walked in and handed the usher our tickets and headed down the hall. I was a little ahead of Cassie, anxious to get in the dark theater.  

 “Are you sure you’re all right?” asked Cassie, grabbing my right arm and turning me around.

“I’ll be OK.”

“Alex!” said Cassie, pulling my right arm closer to her face. “When did you get the tattoo?”

“Shush!” I pulled my arm away. “It’s not a tattoo. It’s a birthmark.”

“I don’t remember seeing that birthmark before. Sort of looks like a flame. Especially since it’s so red.”

  “It only turns red when I’m not feeling well.”

“That’s weird. I have birthmarks and they don’t turn red when I’m sick.”

“You know me,” I said. “The queen of weirdness.”

“Actually, it’s pretty cool,” Cassie said. “It’s just that I never knew that about you, and I thought I knew everything there was to know. You’re not keeping any other secrets from me. Are you?”

“Secrets. No. Of course not.”

I needed to change the subject. “Let’s get our seats before all of the good ones are taken.”

We sat in the sixth row from the front behind two girls that Cassie knew from her ballet class. I loved this new theater with its cushiony reclining seats that rocked. I was ready to relax. After almost being caught by those things at Kate’s aunt’s house, I never wanted to have another close call like that ever again.

The pain in my stomach lessened, and just when I thought I was going to be able to enjoy the movie, a couple sat behind us. They shared a tub of popcorn and they each had gallon-sized sodas. Almost immediately my stomach started to hurt. The guy belched and the woman whispered, “Richard!”

Cassie leaned over and whispered in my ear. “What a pig. Wanna move?”

I whispered yes and followed Cassie out of the row and up the steps. She found two seats at the tippy top in front of the wall. No one would be able to sit behind us. Good. There were a group of girls in front of us, but they were normal.

It was getting tougher and tougher to go out and not run into one of these things. These humans that weren’t entirely human. I wondered if it was a paradox. If two things could be one thing at the same time. Kind of seemed like vinegar and oil to me. You can’t mix vinegar and oil and make a single substance.

I was trying to reason what I saw in human logical terms, but I realized it was futile. Some things just defy human understanding. Maybe this was one of them.

I was restless throughout the entire movie. I couldn’t sit still. I imagined sea slugs slithering beneath my feet. Sea slugs in the heads of the fat couple down front. And in the cashier at the ticket window.

I popped the tab on my Coke and opened the cookie dough bites I had sneaked into the theater. That’s one good thing about being a girl, there’s always plenty of room for a can of Coke and a snack or two in your bag. There was no way I was going to buy snacks at the theater. Way too expensive. They want $4 for a box of cookie dough bites, and I got them for a buck at the dollar store. 

The theater seemed darker than usual, but maybe it’s because we were sitting higher than we normally do.

After the movie, we waited until nearly everyone had left the theater. Cassie and I usually stay until the end of the credits just in case there’s an extra scene. At the end of this movie, there were a bunch of takes in which the actors flubbed their lines. Some were really funny. I hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time.

On our way out, I stopped at the restroom to check my birthmark. It was no longer bright red.

“Hey, honey!” a voice called as we were leaving the theater.

I heard gum crack.

“How’s your stomach?”

It was the ticket clerk. I acted like I didn’t hear her and began to run. I probably shouldn’t have because it drew more attention. But I just had to get away from her, from all of them.  

“Wait up,” Cassie yelled, running to catch up with me. “First you’re sick and now you want to run a marathon. What’s with you? Don’t get weird on me, Alex. I can’t handle any more weirdness.”

“I’m not acting weird,” I said, stopping to catch my breath. “I just felt like running.”

“Well, stop. I’m too tired to keep up with you.”

“OK. Sorry. Let’s get the bus home. Think your parents will let you sleep over?”

“Let’s go to my house first and ask,” Cassie said. “You go with me. It will be harder for them to say no if you’re standing there. Did you already ask your mom?”

“Mom said yes as long as we get up for church.”

 Cassie and I go to the same church but, unlike my mom, her parents don’t make her go every week.

 “Anything to get away from my dad for the night,” Cassie said. “Even boring church.”

We had to wait about 10 minutes for the bus. When it finally came, it was empty, except for the bus driver. It was the same bus driver that we had earlier, only something was different. In fewer than three hours, he was one of them.